


Gouda To Meet You

by StormDancer



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (and I mean that literally), Alternate Universe - Grocery Store, Cheese, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 19:34:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2519297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormDancer/pseuds/StormDancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Okay, so you had cheese recommendations for the guy who accidentally texted you, fine. But did you have to tell him where you worked? Or to come by?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gouda To Meet You

**Author's Note:**

> For Rue. Because I wouldn't write her an ancient Greece AU, but she can have a cheese fic. 
> 
> Based on this [post](http://vicepresidents.tumblr.com/post/100825398537).
> 
> Don't know don't own etc.

“You texted him back?” Liam looks like he’d like to hit his head against the table, if doing so wouldn’t get his head all gross with the remnants of deli meat and also break health codes. It’s a very complicated sort of look, but Harry’s been friends with Liam for three years and has worked with him for about that long, so he’s well versed in interpreting his looks.

“Yeah?” Harry shrugs. “I mean, I work at a cheese counter. I had cheese recommendations. It was only polite to give them when he asked.” He glances to his left, where Niall’s still doubled over, his laughter not even subsiding a little. “Think he’s okay?”

“He’s fine,” Liam says, with his most serious face on. “Okay, so you had cheese recommendations for the guy who accidentally texted you, fine. But did you have to tell him where you worked? Or to come by?”

Once more, Harry shrugs. He doesn’t get why Liam’s making such a big deal over it. It’s not like he gave him his life story. Well, maybe a little bit in explaining he worked at a cheese counter in the grocery store, but he didn’t like give him his last name or anything. Just a first name. And only because Harry could respect someone who needed cheese so desperately that he was in such a rush to text his friend he got the wrong number. Harry understood the problem.

“He probably won’t,” Harry demurs, because Liam does look very worried, and also it might get Niall to stop laughing. He casts his gaze around the store, but it’s pretty quiet for a Sunday afternoon. The only customers are a pair of guys about Harry’s age who are standing near the spice aisle. They’ve been there for a while, actually, about since Harry started telling his story. Not that Harry normally notices customers that much, but one of the guys is really hot, so Harry had noticed him sort of accidentally. Or Harry thinks he’s hot, he really only noticed his back, but it’s a good back, broad shoulders narrowing into slim hips with a warm-looking jumper on over them and the hint of ink under dark hair curling at his neck. It’s a nice view. Harry hopes he doesn’t move.

“But what if he does come?” Liam insists. “Stop laughing Niall!” he snaps suddenly, which doesn’t help. “It’s not funny, Harry could be getting stalked!”

Niall just waves a hand and braces himself against the counter.

“I’m not getting stalked, he doesn’t even know what I look like.”

“But he knows you work here, he can figure it out.”

“There are three of us, how would he know which one?”

“He’d probably wait til we called you by name.”

“Have you ever stalked anyone?” Harry narrows his eyes to glare at Liam. “’cause it sounds like you have it well planned out.”

“What? No, I—” Liam’s face is pure relief when the bell at the counter rings and Harry has to turn away to go tend it.

He turns—and comes face to face with the hot guy who is no longer at the spice shelf. Now he’s at the counter. Obviously. And he’s still pretty from the front, all dark eyelashes and cheekbones and his teeth digging into pink lips. Harry blinks once. It’s kind of breathtaking, really, how attractive he is. The sort of attractive you don’t really think exists outside of movies.

“How can I help you?” he asks, with his most charming smile. Flirting with fit customers is one of the best parts of his job.

The guy glances over his shoulder, probably at where Niall is still laughing, then rubs at his ear. He has earrings. It should be weird, but it’s gorgeous. “Yeah, so, this is weird, but…” he trails off, but his friend—who Harry sort of just noticed, in the wake of the other guy’s hotness, but is pretty nice-looking himself, with a pointed face and bright blue eyes, elbows him. “Does, like, a Harry work here?”

Behind him, Liam chokes. It is surprising, so Harry can feel his smile dim. But still, Harry’s polite and the customer is always right and also this guy’s really hot, so, “Yeah, that’s me! Do we know each other?” Harry has a second of thinking this guy might be Cheese Guy, but he’s so hot. That doesn’t really happen.

“Yeah, like, I mean, not really. But, I kinda texted you yesterday?” The guy rubs at his ear again, and his friend wraps a defensive-looking arm around his shoulders, glaring at Harry like it’s all his fault. “Like, about cheese. I wanted to come by and apologize?”

“You’re cheese guy?” Harry points at him like an accusation, even if it’s more shock. Cheese guy was supposed to be a weird middle-aged man who would creepily hit on Harry and then Harry would have a story to tell forever. Not a Greek god who Harry wants to hit on not at all creepily but just a lot.

“Um, yeah.” The guy bites his lip again. “So, like, I know that was weird, and I wanted to say sorry.”

“So you decided to come by rather than text?” Liam inserts. He has his stern face on. It’s sort of undercut by Niall still cracking up behind them.

“Yes,” His friend snaps back. “He did. Shut up. Zayn, go on,” he urges softly. His hand runs down to rest on the guy—Zayn’s—hip, and Harry resists the urge to pout at it.

“Just, sorry.” Zayn stops biting his lip to lick it, and that’s even worse, especially when coupled with the quick, sheepish glance he gives Harry through long, long eyelashes. “I was, well, not exactly—”

“He was really fucking high,” his friend interrupts. It sounds sharp, but it looks like he’s laughing, though not as hard as Niall. “Hi, I’m Louis. I’m the one who was supposed to get that text. Thanks for your cheese suggestions, mate, they were ace.”

“Glad you enjoyed them.” Harry gives Louis a smile, but he can’t quite look away from Zayn. He has a tattoo on his hand, the outline of a bird. Harry wants to bite it. “And it’s okay. I always like talking about cheese!”

It gets him another one of those long, somehow quiet looks. Harry can’t help how his smile grows at it. He sort of wants to do some sort of dance, to maybe twirl around, to do something to impress this boy, to get more of those looks. “Well, you were a lifesaver last night,” he says, and his lips curve into a smile that Harry wants to taste. “Made Lou get some, they were delicious.”

“Which ones?” Harry demands. He will keep this conversation going if it kills him. And this beautiful person should not have subpar cheese, not if Harry is there to give him the best.

“Um, the goat, I think?” He glances at Louis, who nods, “Yeah, the goat.”

“Did you like it?”

“Sure. ‘s cheese, isn’t it?” Zayn shrugs, like that’s all there is too it.

Harry gasps, brings a hand to his mouth to make his gasp more obvious. “Just cheese!” He exclaims theatrically. Zayn smiles again, so Harry continues to ham it up. People always find that charming, and Zayn is no exception. “No, it’s not just cheese, it’s a lifestyle.”

“A lifestyle?”

“Yes,” Harry insists, and beckons Zayn closer. He comes, Louis still draped over him, but Harry keeps his gaze fixed on Zayn. “I’ll show you.”

“Yeah?” Zayn’s eyes crinkle into a smile at the corners of them. Harry might be a little in love.

“Yeah.” Harry squeezes around Liam to better get to the display, because Liam is being all disapproving and not being helpful and moving or possibly just taking Niall and disappearing for a little bit so Harry can woo his cheese boy in peace. “And if you get the munchies again, it’s important you choose right.”

“Well then. Zayn, I leave you to this important education.” Louis whispers something to Zayn that Harry can’t hear, his forehead resting on Zayn’s temple. It looks like a very nice place to be, close enough to Zayn to whisper to him. Harry would quite like to try it. Zayn makes a face, nods, then dodges the hand Louis snakes out to do something to him. “I’ve got actual munchies to pick up.”

“Also, food,” Zayn adds.

“Also food,” Louis agrees. “So I’ll be off getting pasta. And lots of other things. It should take a while.” He gives Harry a grin, elbows Zayn in the side, then goes.

“Is he always weird?” Harry asks. Then he sort of wants to hit his own head against the counter because obviously insulting a hot guy’s friend and possibly roommate or something is the way to their heart.

But Zayn just laughs, and does that thing where he rubs at his ear again. “Yeah, Lou’s a bit of an acquired taste,” he admits. “He can, like, come on a bit all at once, sometimes.”

“It’s okay.” Harry grins, and throws in a wink for good measure. Just so no signals are crossed. “So can I.”

“Well, can’t just let cheese go unappreciated, can you?” Zayn is teasing him. Harry is definitely a bit in love, because people who can tease him while also making him want o smile are his favorite type of people. Although everything would be better if Niall wasn’t still laughing.

“Nope!” Harry shakes his head, and tries his best to look serious. “First thing’s first. Which type of cheese is your favorite?”

Zayn’s forehead wrinkles like he’s giving it real thought. It’s a bit odd, people taking Harry seriously, even if Harry’s fairly certain Zayn’s not taking him too seriously, because he’s still got a bit of a smile on. But still. Usually by now either Harry’s scared people off or he’s gotten into their pants. “Um, I dunno? I like cheddar?”

Harry gives another over-exaggerated gasp. Niall laughs louder. “I am going to show you a whole new world,” he tells Zayn, and leans over to properly select the first cheese.

He looks up again when he hears humming. “Are you singing?” he asks, and Zayn ducks his head and grins.

“Just, Aladdin’s my favorite.” He grins, and hums the tune louder. “Sorry, like, I have a little sister, I watched a lot of Disney while I watched her.”

Of course he watched his little sister and watched princess movies with her. Harry is starting to think he just made this guy up, so he glances at Liam, but Liam’s glare has softened. He can’t resist someone who likes Disney either. But at least he’s definitely looking at Zayn, so he definitely exists.

Harry shakes his head to clear it. Cheese. Focus on the cheese. Cheese is clearly the way to this boy’s heart.

“Okay,” he announces, leaning down again to select his ideal cheese. He passes over the cheddars—too simple, too plebian—then settles. He pulls the cheese out from under the counter, cuts a small slice. “Here, try this.”

He holds it out. Zayn takes it, gives it a skeptical look, then pops it into his mouth. “’s good,” he says slowly, “what is it?”

Harry blinks. How is he supposed to focus on words when Zayn’s tongue is catching crumbs off his lips? “It’s, um, a bleu cheese,” he replies. “Good? Mind opened yet?”

Zayn grins, and there’s something that looks like a challenge in it. “What else do you have?”

They go through a mozzarella, an Edam, and a goat cheese, and each time Zayn looks pleased, but he’s not blown away. Harry needs to blow him away, so that he will have to come back for more cheese and also to talk to Harry. Liam’s wandered away by the time Harry’s finished watching Zayn’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallows down the goat cheese, though Niall has moved to a stool in the corner and whenever it looks like he’s going to stop laughing, he looks at them again and starts cracking up. It’s kind of a nice background noise, his raucous laughter.

Zayn swallows, and hums his pleasure. Every time he does that Harry can’t help but wonder what else he could do to get that sound out of him. “Is he okay?” he asks, nodding over at Niall.

Harry shrugs. “Yeah, he does this.” Niall lifts a hand, as if to say he’s cool. Zayn’s brow furrows, but he goes back to ignoring Niall, which is what he should be doing, because he should be paying attention to Harry. “So, have any favorites yet?”

“Dunno.” One side of Zayn’s mouth quirks up. “You might need to show me more.”

“I can do that!” He will do that forever if it keeps Zayn here with him. But he doesn’t know how much time he has before Louis comes back and Zayn disappears back to wherever gorgeous boys who smoke weed and are adorable with their sisters and need cheese go. So this cheese has to be it. It has to be the clincher. It has to be the cheese that will get Zayn to come back to Harry for all his cheese-related needs. And also hopefully his orgasm-related needs, and heart-related needs.

So he chooses very, very carefully, and even more carefully carves a wedge out of the brie.

“That going to hold together?” Zayn asks skeptically. Harry looks at it, at soft insides oozing out from under the hard crust, and makes a split second decision.

“It will like this.” He picks it up between his fingers. He’s wearing gloves, he reasons, it’s hygienic. Basically. Whatever. He doesn’t really care, because now he’s holding out the brie on his fingers, and he will get to sort of touch Zayn, so everything’s a win.

He expects Zayn to take it off his fingers. He’s bracing for it, really, ready for the electricity he knows will come. What he doesn’t expect is for Zayn to lean forward and take the wedge with his mouth, his lips brushing hot over the pads at Harry’s fingertips. For his tongue to edge out, like it had over his lips, to get the last bits of cheese from his fingers. For him to look at Harry with eyes that glinted with heat and promise.

“Mm.” Zayn straightens, chews, swallows. “That is good.”

Harry swallows. He doesn’t—Zayn had been being _shy_. Not—unless this is just him being practical? Maybe he doesn’t want to get his fingers dirty?

Except Harry doesn’t think so, not with the smirk hinting at the edges of Zayn’s lips, not with the steady, slightly amused look he’s giving Harry, like he’s waiting for his next move.

Harry can make it. Harry can play the game. This is Harry’s game. “So?” he gets out. His voice isn’t even hoarse at all. He might not even have blushed, though given the new timbre to Niall’s laughter, he probably did. “Anything here meet your needs?”

“Oh my god,” Liam snorts, but Harry ignores him. It wasn’t his best line, but it wasn’t his worst by a long shot.

“Think something might.” Zayn nods, wetting his lips again. No one’s lips can really be that dry, can they? They don’t look dry, they look soft and felt it too. Harry’d be willing to see, though. For science.

"Well then. What can I get for you?” Harry leans forward, purposefully shifting so his shirt gaps open more and Zayn could probably see his swallows if he was looking. He’s so glad he had to foresight to not button the top two buttons today, even if he sometimes gets yelled at for it. “What’d you like?”

“I—”

“Zaynie!” Louis comes out of nowhere, basically leaping on Zayn’s back. Zayn starts, but he doesn’t even stumble when what looks like Louis’s full weight hits him. Harry’s mind only translates that to how he could probably hold Harry’s weight up—how he could catch Harry is he tripped or how he could manhandle Harry how he wanted—a little.

“Lou,” Zayn mutters. He gives Harry a quick, sidelong look, but it’s like that burst of heat—of flirtation and seduction—disappeared with the jolt of Louis hitting him. It’s a pity, but Harry thinks this Zayn is charming too, the one who stuttered a little and doesn’t seem to know that Harry’s already plotting the best places in the back room for a quick fuck just to tide them over until they can get to someone’s bed and then a house in the suburbs with a white picket fence. “The fuck?”

Louis presses a sloppy kiss to Zayn’s cheek. “Sorry to cut this short, love, but we’ve got to get home. El’s coming over in like half an hour and I’ve got to clean.”

“El knows what our flat looks like,” Zayn argues. Harry resists the urge to preen. Zayn doesn’t want to go. Zayn wants to spend more time with him.

“Zayn,” Louis whines, “It still reeks from last night. We’ve got to air it. And if you hadn’t spent so long dithering because you thought he was cute—”

“Fine.” Zayn says quickly, cutting Louis off, but Harry’s ears perk up.

“Thought who was cute?”

Louis’s grin flashes, quick and sharp. “Oh, should have heard him, I can’t just go over it was too weird and he’s actually cute and—mph!”

“What Louis means to say,” Zayn says calmly, like he doesn’t have his hand clamped over Louis’s mouth. Louis flails a little, but neither of them are acting like this is unusual. As Niall’s been laughing for actually half an hour straight, Harry figures he shouldn’t judge. “Is that we have to go.” Harry arranges his face into his most charming pout. He wants to hear about how cute he is, especially when it’s from the hottest guy he’s ever seen.

No one is immune to the pout, not even Zayn, because he grins, that sheepish grin he had a first. “Maybe I’ll tell you later, yeah?” he suggests. Louis makes a muffled noise from under Zayn’s palm. “You haven’t finished showing me all your cheeses yet.”

“You mean I haven’t changed your life yet?” Harry asks.

Zayn chuckles. It’s a low, rumbling sound that Harry can almost feel in his chest, and Harry really wants to actually feel it. To press his head to Zayn’s stomach when he laughs like that, to feel the vibrations. “Not just yet, cheese boy.”

“You’ll just have to come back, then.”

“Maybe I will.” Zayn presses his lips together, then adds, “Or, like, you have my number. You could text me. Give me more cheese recommendations.”

“I have a lot of cheese recommendations,” Harry admits, because he thinks doing a happy dance probably wouldn’t impress Zayn very much. But he is so in. “We could even try some together, sometime. At a dinner. If you wanted.”

Zayn runs the hand not still gagging Louis over his ear again. “Yeah. That, like, sounds fun. I—fine, Lou, god.” He sighs when Louis elbows him in the side. “We can go.”

“Good.” Louis breaks away from Zayn easily enough that Harry wonders if he was ever actually properly captured. “See you later, cheese boy.”

“Later.” Harry raises a hand to wave, as Louis turns around, bringing Zayn with him. He gets another one of those tentative, inviting grins from Zayn before he’s dragged away.

Harry turns to look at Liam and Niall when they’re properly gone. Niall’s clutching at his sides. Liam’s pursing his lips in that way he gets when he thinks he should disapprove but is actually really amused by Harry.

“See?” Harry says, grinning so brightly he thinks he might actually split his face in half. “Not a creeper.”

“We don’t actually know that,” Liam points out.

“He’s not,” Harry insists. “And—” his phone buzzes, so Harry pulls it out of his pocket to check.

It’s from a number he has yet to make into a contact, but that he thinks he will very soon. _The brie was my favorite_ , it reads, _think I’d like to try more of that_.

Harry’s not sure what color his face goes, but he thinks his blood is confused if it should go to his face to bush or his dick because yes please. “I think I’m going to marry him,” Harry announces, holding his phone like it’s a precious relic. “There is going to be the biggest cheese platter ever at our wedding.”

Niall slides off the stool to pat Harry’s shoulder. “Only you, Haz.” He snorts a final time. “Only you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Liked it? Want to talk about it? Comment or come say hi on [ tumblr!](http://ridiculouslittleidiots.tumblr.com/)


End file.
